Gratitude
by Dawn1000
Summary: When she travels to a town far up north and wipes out the yoma there, the last thing she expects is a thanks. But his eyes are so sincere, and his smile so warm. She looks at him and thinks: this man's an odd one. One-shot.


Regardless of her comrades' beliefs, the northern lands of Alphonse truly are beautiful. There's something serene about the canvas of white all around her. One might almost be fooled into thinking the region is tranquil.

But the purple blood staining the ground and the fearful glances aimed at Anastasia shatter that illusion. The warrior adjusts her sword to its place on her back. Then she makes to leave the little village she's served.

The townspeople part, clearing a path for her and Anastasia smiles ruefully. Some humans have grown to tolerate her kind since the fall of the Organization; others have only become more fearful. It's obvious which category this group falls into.

Anastasia is at the town's border when she hears the sound of feet hitting the ground hard. She turns, her curiosity piqued. The warrior raises an eyebrow at the sight before her.

A man in his late teens or early twenties stands in front of her. He's breathing hard from his run, hands propped against his knees and the scarf covering his pale neck is slipping off his shoulder. The man looks up and his dark green eyes meet Anastasia's silver ones.

For a moment no one says a word. Then the villagers begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves and the man's face flushes. He opens his mouth to say something but ducks his head, his gaze dropping down to the snow covered ground.

Anastasia with holds a sigh; she has other matters she needs to attend to. If the human doesn't speak soon, she'll leave.

"Thank you!" he blurts out. "For saving the village I mean."

The warrior is taken aback. She stares at him and his face turns to the color of his hair.

Anastasia watches as the human fumbles with something in the pocket of his cloak. He grabs it and presents it to her with a shy smile.

The object is a little brown bag. The word _Ivtus _is sewn onto it and the warrior realizes after a second that it's the young man's name. She opens it and frowns.

"We warriors don't charge humans for our services anymore. Your bera aren't necessary," she tells him. His face falls.

"I know. Still, I feel as if I ought to repay you someway for saving all our lives." Ivtus's eyes flit to the crowd that's formed not so subtly around them. They darken at the horrified expressions on most of the villagers' faces.

Anastasia's lips twitch.

How strange this man is. His is a rare type among humans; unafraid of warriors and unbiased.

"I'm sorry, but I can't accept this," her tone is apologetic.

"I work a bunch of odd jobs," he says. "And I move from place to place often. Take me with you to Rabona and this money will be a compensation for the time it'll add to your travels."

Anastasia just shakes her head.

Ivtus frowns and his mouth thins. Then his eyes spark. He makes a big show about bending his head and lowering himself to both knees on the cold ground. All around him people gasp. Anastasia 's brow furrows. What is he doing?

Ivtus sees the look on her face and drops his voice until it's only a low whisper.

"In Alphonse," he begins, "We have a something called a _Demruit_\- essentially a life debt. We people up north take our honor _very _seriously and I'm- I'm pledging mine to you now."

Anastasia's eyes widen. She moves to make him rise but the pleading look on his face makes her stop.

Ivtus draws a long dagger from his waist and slashes his palm. Blood colors the snow and the warrior tenses.

_It isn't yoma blood, _she tells herself. _It's red- not purple. See?_

Ivtus's gaze is pained but he presses on with pledging his _Demruit. _The hand he's cut reaches out to grip Anastasia's and she feels hot liquid touch her limb. His blood.

"You have saved my life," Ivtus says, and the 'All our lives' is left hanging in the air. "So I pledge that if ever you need me to return the favor, I'll be there. When the day comes that you find yourself in need of me, I will be ready." He loosens his grip on her hand until only their fingers are connected and draws it to his forehead so that her knuckles brush against his tousled hair. "So be it, by the way of _Demruit." _

Anastasia is too stunned to speak. There is a difference between thanking a warrior like her and pledging his _life to her! _Because that's what he's done. Never will Ivtus, a human, be able to save her life. She feels something in her chest constrict.

"Get out! Get out!" a woman screeches.

"You servant of the Devil!" shouts another. "How could you defile a sacred oath?!"

Ivtus laughs a bit nervously at their fury and before the villagers can descend upon him, he's rushing out of the gates. Anastasia rubs her temples and departs herself.

Ivtus is just around the bend of the town's border when the warrior spots him. He speaks before she can.

"I'm headed to Rabona," he tells her honestly, "And I do mean to stand by the _Demruit. _You're not obligated to travel with me, but I'd appreciate it if you did."

"And why is that?"

Ivtus swings an arm towards the forest.

"Bandits are rampant around these parts. Having a Claymore by my side will certainly get them to leave me alone."

Anastasia's frowns.

"Is that why you pledged yourself to me? For protection?"

Ivtus gives her a sheepish grin.

"Partly. But I mean what I said earlier about being grateful towards you. I wouldn't have sworn the _Demruit _if I wasn't serious."

And Anastasia can't help but feel a bit touched by his words. His gaze holds sincerity, and not many humans would cut themselves for a warrior.

"Come on then," she beckons him. "I've got another mission to carry out but then we can head to Rabona.

Ivtus's face brightens. Under the light of the sun, his hair looks like it's on fire and his green eyes are more like emeralds.

"One more thing," Anastasia says. "Humans gave us the title of Claymores. We call ourselves warriors."

"Alrighty then Miss Warrior. Where are we headed off to for your mission?"

"My name is Anastasia."

"Anastasia huh? A pretty name for a pretty lady."The warrior chokes on air and looks at her companion in total shock. Mischief shines in the glance he returns. "Well why do you think I was completely tongue tied back in the town? I was utterly mesmerized by your beautiful hair."

_Oh. _

Anastasia likes him already.

* * *

A year and a half later, Ivtus becomes her husband. They are married in the Holy City. It's a quiet ceremony, nothing special but Sister Latea is there to help wed them and Nike is her maid of honor. Captain Miria and Helen, Deneve, Audrey, Rachel, and Dietrich could make it and having several of her sisters in arms there means the world to Anastasia.

She chuckles as she remembers the stunned look on Nike's face when she introduced Ivtus to her as her fiancé. Now her best friend can't seem to shake the smug smirk she's wearing off her face.

"What's so entertaining?" Anastasia asks her.

The other warrior just shakes her head.

"It seems fitting for you to marry a man from the north. You always loved that barren wasteland after all."

Anastasia has never smiled so hard in her entire life.


End file.
